Chapter 46: Temptation Intercepted

Without wasting another second, Wei Jiang turned and ran.

"Coming for the prince…"

'Not if I get to him first!'

Wei Jiang thought, racing up the stairs—injuries be damned.

…

At the top floor of First Prison, far above the cold concrete and flickering fluorescents, a single private door gently swung open with a quiet click. Dong Yingming stepped through, carrying Yao Ziyang in his arms.

Unlike the bleak and gray walls that defined the rest of First Prison, this space exuded quiet opulence—plush dark carpeted floors, draped windows letting in the late afternoon glow, and a large bed at the far end, already prepared with freshly laundered sheets and pillows fluffed to perfection. The room was quiet—untouched and waiting.

He stepped inside and, with careful precision, carried Yao Ziyang directly to the bed, as if setting down something sacred. With a slow movement, he pulled the blanket from over Yao Ziyang's head, revealing a face that was practically glowing with health and beauty.

The white veil had only amplified his fragile elegance—now, unveiled and fully visible in the warmth of their room, Yao Ziyang sparkled like sunlight against still water. The white blanket slipped from his shoulders and pooled at his waist. His lips were curved in an eager, delighted smile—like he had just stepped into a dream.

His platinum blond hair spilled across his shoulders, and his inky eyes shimmered with vitality. He looked—Dong Yingming thought—almost too good to be real.

"This place is…"

Yao Ziyang's fingers trailed along the plush bedding.

"It's like a palace. Will you be making this our bridal suite? Hehe, just kidding."

Dong Yingming didn't answer. He was standing just beside the bed, frozen in place, looking down at the glowing young man like he was something made of starlight. Something far too precious for someone like him, his heart aching with a blend of awe and disbelief.

'What kind of virtue had I accumulated in my past life to deserve this man in my arms now?'

He thought, an old guilt stirring beneath the quiet of his awe. His hands unconsciously tightening into fists.

'Do I even deserve him…?'

But Yao Ziyang, despite the warmth still lingering from the car ride, had a different thought entirely.

His eyes narrowed playfully as he leaned forward, just enough to close the space between them. One pale hand reached out and stroked slowly down Dong Yingming's thick, corded forearm, tracing over the muscles like he was reading him by touch.

"You covered my head with a white veil…"

Yao Ziyang said softly, lips dangerously close to caramel skin. His voice was sweet enough to rot teeth.

"You carried me all the way up here. You set me down on the wedding bed…"

His fingers slid up the man's arm, settling at his bicep.

"Shouldn't we… consummate our 'marriage'?"

Dong Yingming's breath hitched.

Yao Ziyang's lips curved into a delicate, suggestive smile as he continued to stroke Dong Yingming's arm—those broad, scarred, dangerously capable arms that had held him so tenderly on the ride up. His fingers traced slow, deliberate paths over the warm skin through the thin fabric of Dong Yingming's clothes, before he slipped his hand under the cuff and brushed against bare flesh.

Dong Yingming's entire body tensed.

Yao Ziyang leaned in closer. His breath ghosted over the other's neck—warm, teasing.

"You're really going to make me work for it?"

He whispered, barely audible. His voice was breathy, sweet, and shameless.

Unfortunately for him, Yao Ziyang wasn't finished. He gently blew softly on Dong Yingming's neck, his lips grazing the skin, the faint warmth of his breath causing shivers to ripple down the older man's spine.

And then those deep, bottomless black eyes locked with Dong Yingming's, allowing him to finally see the faintest of green rim. They encompassed the black voids, shifting effortlessly and nearly blending with their surrounding dominant color.

Yao Ziyang tilted his head just slightly, the green shimmer disappearing back into darkness, the pads of his fingers slowly guiding Dong Yingming's hand under his own soft cashmere sweater, urging him higher—over his waist, toward his bare ribs.

Dong Yingming's throat went dry.

His self-control, which had been stretched thin these past few days, now frayed to the point of snapping. Every muscle in his body screamed to give in, to pull this incubus into his lap and worship him in every way possible.

He swallowed hard, trying to look away—but Yao Ziyang reached up with both hands, curling them around the back of his neck.

"Touch me~."

Yao Ziyang said, so innocently it almost masked the heat under his words.

His control buckled for half a second. His other hand clenched at his side. Lust stirred violently in his gut—raw and demanding. Yao Ziyang's gaze was fixed on him, wide and adoring, pupils slightly dilated. Everything about him, from the gentle breaths he took to the way he arched slightly into the touch, was designed to unravel a man.

But Dong Yingming grit his teeth and quickly pulled back.

"You just got out of the hospital…"

He said, the gruffness in his voice masking the tremor.

"You're still recovering. Don't tempt fate. You—"

"I feel fine…"

Yao Ziyang interrupted, pouting.

"And I'm very clean."

That made Dong Yingming let out a slow, shaking breath. His thumb brushed unintentionally along the line of Yao Ziyang's ribs, and the Omega shivered against his palm.

Dong Yingming straightened like he'd been electrocuted. The spell snapped.

Yao Ziyang let out a long, slow groan and flopped back dramatically against the bed, arms outstretched like a wronged maiden. The hem of his sweater riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of porcelain skin.

"What's the point of recovering if I can't make use of my new good health?"

Dong Yingming turned his face away, rubbing the bridge of his nose like a man on the edge of war.

And then—

A knock at the door.

Dong Yingming had never been so thankful for an interruption in his life.

"…Tch, of course someone knocks now."

Yao Ziyang muttered, scowling faintly. His little fun had been cut short, and the timing couldn't have been worse.

But even as he huffed, he was already rearranging his expression into something sweet and demure. In an attempt to maintain his cutesy mask, he blinked innocently toward the door.

"You should answer…"

He said in a sing-song tone.

"It'd be rude not to."

Dong Yingming cast him a sidelong look, noting the pout, the tempting curve of his smile—and silently vowed vengeance the moment Yao Ziyang was truly well.

Dong Yingming exhaled once through his nose, the fire in his chest still burning but boxed away—for now.

He approached the door, posture tense, eyes narrow.

"…One day."

He muttered darkly.

Yao Ziyang smiled like a man who had already won.

Whoever was knocking... had better not be here for long.

The knock came again—firmer this time.

Dong Yingming clicked his tongue and walked to the door. He opened it only a fraction, just wide enough to see the guard's uniform and impassive expression. His tall frame blocked the view into the room entirely, making sure no one could so much as glimpse Yao Ziyang lounging on their shared bed.

Outside stood a younger guard, back rigid and eyes firmly fixed downward in fear. He swallowed audibly, clearly uncomfortable under Dong Yingming's fierce stare. The guard offered a quick nod of respect.

"B-Boss Dong. The Warden sent me…"

The guard stammered, trying hard not to fidget.

"He wants to speak with you urgently. He said it's regarding the…favors you owe."

A muscle in Dong Yingming's jaw twitched.

His irritation flared, but he suppressed it quickly—this was business he'd eventually have to deal with. Better to resolve it now and get it over with than let it hang over his head, especially now that his most precious person was back in his arms.

He gave a short nod.

"Understood. I'll head over shortly."

His voice dripped with frost. The guard bowed and left.